Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Celebrating Black Boys: My Love Project

This
week, I did something remarkable for my soul. I established Celebrating
Black Boys, a social media presence dedicated to the celebration of
positive images of black boys.

It
started as a Facebook group. In October 2013, with the government
shutdown looming into perpetuity, I sat with my three-year-old son outside of
our house in the warm fall breeze and wondered what the future had in
store. He was fascinated by a worm that had emerged from our grass.
He could stare at it all day, and all I could do was stare at him. In
addition to my indefinite break from work, I had just removed him from his
preschool. Despite only spending three weeks in his new three-year-old
classroom, his teachers had unleashed on us a litany of “concerns” about his
behavior. In an email from his teachers, they noted he was having trouble
“pulling up his pants” after using the bathroom (he needed help with buttons),
“sorting items into trash, compost and recycling,” “zipping his lunch
box,” “staying behind the same person for the entire walking time,” and “doing
an activity to completion.” As a result, they gave us a choice: have him
evaluated by the state or remove him from the school.

He
was 3 years and 2 months old.

He
was also the only black boy in his class.

We
removed him.

The
decision did not come easy. My eldest son had just graduated from that
very school. We trusted their input and diligently took heed of their
criticism throughout the years, despite how many times it came up unfounded.
With our little guy, however, it was different. He was so small,
and they had only known him three weeks. How could they have made such
sweeping assertions about his character in such a small window of time? And
based on completely age- appropriate behaviors? How could they have decided his
needs required professional intervention without even taking the time to know
him?

(c) Matt Small

So,
I observed. I sat quietly in a corner of his classroom and watched.
The boy I observed was not the son I recognized. He was shy, withdrawn,
fearful and reluctant to interact with his teachers and peers. What was
even more troubling was the hyper-vigilance with which his teachers seemed to
treat him. If he so much as moved the wrong way, they were calling his
name, correcting him, reprimanding him… meanwhile, other children talked out of
turn, played with their shoelaces and fidgeted relentlessly, and it went
completely unnoticed. It broke my heart. This was not the little
boy who bounced through my home – verbal, eager to assert his independence and
full of love and light. This was a child who was told he was a problem
and had started to believe it. Even at three. In spite of all the
love my husband and I had committed to giving him.

Sure,
there were probably a litany of experiences and reasons those teachers targeted
him. But whether they were conscious of it or not, race was one of them.

This
I know.

However,
suddenly their reasons were the least of my concerns. I was more
concerned with how he saw himself. I never wanted how someone else
treated him to impact his sense of identity again. Watching him staring
at the icky worm, I felt fiercely protective. I needed to protect
his curiosity. His creativity. His intelligence. I needed to
protect his self-worth. There was no limit to his abilities and the
contributions he could make to this world. He needed to know that.
He needed to know it so they next time someone tried to tell him differently,
he would know they were liars.

I started
the group with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes. I wanted to connect
with other mommies and daddies who knew their brown children were remarkable.
Mommies and Daddies who fought each and every day to make sure they remembered
it…

I
am back at work now, and he is in a school that is a MUCH better fit.
However, I have no doubt my sons’ journeys to adulthood won't include
more challenges. Celebrating Black Boys is for the love
of black boys. It is for Trayvon, Jordan and Emmett. It is for my
boys, my husband, my brothers, my cousins, and all the black boys and people
who love them. It is to remind us all of who they are, who they can
be. It is to counteract article after article of damaging statistics that
do not have to be predictions of the future. It is to counteract every
mug shot, suspect sketch, music video and reality show that denigrates the
black male image and works as a vehicle of white supremacy. It is to
serve as a forum for important discussions and a celebration of what is
positive. So when you kiss your beautiful boy and tell him the sky is the
limit, there is not a doubt in your mind that it is true.

And
one more quick note, Celebrating Black Boys is not about the exclusion
of black girls. As a proud black woman, I am invested in the well-being
of black girls just as fiercely as I am in the well-being of black boys.
I believe the missions are not mutually exclusive. Black boys are
brothers, cousins and eventual fathers and uncles of black girls. It is
crucial to the protection of black girls that we raise boys that make us proud.
Boys who say no to violence, rape and disrespect of womanhood. Boys who
recognize their importance and worth to their families. We all have something
to gain from encouraging self-worth in black boys.

Subscribe

Faye McCray

LEGAL NOTICE

All rights reserved.

Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all of the contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, except with our express written permission, distribute or commercially exploit the content. Nor may you transmit it or store it in any other website or other form of written or electronic retrieval system.

Also check me out on:

"You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, or who had ever been alive." - James Baldwin

Click here for more quotes about writing. It's like a little bit of honey in your tea, a warm blanket and big fluffy pillow for your creative self.

Like me on Facebook!

Leaves of Grass

Come, said my soul, Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,) That should I after return, Or, long, long hence, in other spheres, There to some group of mates the chants resuming, (Tallying Earth's soil, trees, winds, tumultuous waves,) Ever with pleas'd smile I may keep on, Ever and ever yet the verses owning—as, first, I here and now Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my name,